The Loneliness of Winter and the Crow
by Texa52
Summary: A poem centering on a dusty old crow and the cold heart of Winter, as they search for warmth in their broken lives.


**Well...never thought I'd be going into crack shipping so soon. Ah Well, Night's watch probably has as much chance as of happening as Rose Garden (Filthy ship, burn in hell), Right?**

 **Never thought I would do poetry, but here's my shot at it. Please give me some feedback, the last time since I wrote poetry was during the fourth grade, so it has been a while. A few tips and advice would go a long way to helping me improve.**

* * *

He sat there on the grass with a bottle, he took a sip from it once more.

Now the moon, his scythe, and shadow, a group of four would form once more.

However neither the moon nor scythe would drink along, his shadow was reluctant to follow.

With this company of four, his pain was all there for him to swallow.

He would sing songs and the moon would listen on.

He would dance and his shadow would dance along.

When drunk they would be so joyous, sober they would separate.

This unforgettable group of four would only leave a heartache.

* * *

She sat in her armchair, with a bottle of red wine by her side.

The moon looked down at her, her rapier was far from her reach, with only a bottle to confide.

The moon looked away in shattered disgust, her weapon would not drink with her.

With this broken family, the pain belonged only to her.

She would gaze at her sword tiredly, yet it would not look back.

She would stare at her bottle, it's reflection gave a painful attack.

When sober, all she desired was ice.

When drunk, all she desired was fire.

* * *

He crept into her window, appearing before her in mystery.

She said and did nothing, merely sitting in her armchair casually.

History was about to repeat itself.

Yet none would heed its call and remember the position of oneself.

Taking one more sip from her glass, she stood up slowly.

At this change, both gave a smile slyly.

The knot on her gown slipped away.

This delightful sight gave way to foreplay.

Fingers became intertwined.

Their hearts were aligned.

Both took a taste of their forbidden fruit.

All pleasure was absolute.

His passion lit the fire to her cold heart.

Both clung on to each other, never letting either one be apart.

They now supplemented each other in their loneliness.

Both were champions of being the loneliest.

With each moment that they were connected.

To find joy in this was unexpected.

She grasped onto her bed sheets.

As their actions increased the rate of their heartbeats.

The climax of their act was reaching.

The consequences of their taboo were far-reaching.

Yet with one last push.

It ended with the flowering of a shadbush.

Their arms were still wrapped around each other's heat.

With this bliss, nothing else could compete

The two enemies drifted to sleep, soon they would be alone again.

For when morning arrived, one would be gone again.

* * *

The morning sun had arrived, oblivious to the night's events.

As he clipped his cloak back on, a wave of loneliness swept in like a torrent.

He took off with haste, leaving feathers in his wake.

In his absence, his partner was beginning to awake.

The cold air rustled his feathers, as he kept his head forward.

He needed another drink, so his direction became wayward.

A lone bird high in the sky, with nowhere to go to.

In this cold twisted life, this was the way he flew.

The warmth of the night was washing away.

The temporary shelter was made of poorly sculpted clay.

This long flight everytime was something he hated.

But with his luck, this was what he was fated.

A rough drunk bastard was his personality.

Thus, throwing away all their compatibility.

This was what stopped him from going too far before.

Yet he kept returning for more.

He kept telling himself, to keep moving forward.

If he went back, things would've only gotten awkward.

Even if he turned back, she would've hated him anyway.

So he spread his wings and kept flying forward.

* * *

In her lonely castle, Winter was yearning for warmth.

Yet all there was in return, was wind from the north.

That old man had kept her warm through the twilight.

But by the time she had awoken, he had disappeared from her sight.

Perhaps it was all for the best.

A romantic relationship between the two of them would fail any test.

The thought that she was in love with him was quite laughable.

Yet she couldn't deny the fact that there was something tangible.

With him, the barriers to her castle walls felt thin.

She still remembered the sensation when he touched her skin.

Now he had felt just as he had entered.

Their brief connection was once again severed.

From the day it had started, it was one big mistake.

Now she had to reassure herself all that she felt was fake.

Glancing the bottle by her fallen nightgown.

The memory of her mother reappeared, leaving her with a pained frown.

Man never learned the lesson given by history.

Yet were the children to blame for their tragic backstories?

She hated feeling alone.

Yet this was all she had on her lonely throne.

* * *

 **Well….I guess leave a Fav if you liked it, I eagerly accept all constructive criticisms, I'm not sure if I will continue on writing poetry, but I hope for the best.**

 **Merry Christmas Y'all.**


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